…or the actual weight of my dang fibroids (+ the rest of my body)
The time has now come for me to start talking about my fibroids and weight gain. Fortunately, in later posts, I’ll also discuss my subsequent (and ongoing) weight loss.
I always get a bit superstitious around November and December. I have a strong belief that if you seek help for a problem before the year ends, you will find some degree of resolution during the following year. My fibroids had already been diagnosed but last November, I did not feel well at all. I was so tired and weak. I felt faint almost constantly and could not figure out why. In the back of my mind, I knew I couldn’t carry this into 2006. Crawled into my doctor’s office on December 30, 2005 (cut that close, didn’t I?) and in addition to eventually finding out about my severe anemia, I also discovered that I had gained a TREMENDOUS amount of weight.
After stepping on the scale, I noticed that the nurse kept moving the little weights too far the wrong way (or so I thought).
Why is she sliding them like that? That’s not right.
Those were the words floating around in my brain until all thought processes went numb by the shock of the final number. Finally, neurons started firing again and my brain screamed:
193 pounds!?! How AND why in the world do I weigh that much? This scale can’t possibly be correct.
Someone MUST have dropped something on the scale or they are leaning on it be mistake. If I look down, I’ll see a third foot. Right? Okay. No third foot. I know. It’s the sweater. I’m wearing my husband’s sweater. It’s big and bulky and probably contributed like 30 pounds. Right? Nope. You are 5 ft. 3 in. tall, weigh 193 lbs, and really need to snap back to reality right about… now.
So, I did. I accepted the number and added it to my long list of reasons to do something about my dang fibroids.
The death of my new normal